


The Houseboat Coda

by Crowgirl



Series: On the Strength of the Evidence [62]
Category: Grantchester (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 21:21:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/pseuds/Crowgirl
Summary: Scheduling is always a problem.





	The Houseboat Coda

**Author's Note:**

> Technically, this happens immediately after the events of _[company, and food and drink](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9596423)_.

‘I’ve never felt such a fool in my life,’ Sidney confesses as Geordie slithers the last foot down the bank towards him, grabbing hold of the boat’s rail to steady himself.

Geordie looks at the key in Sidney’s palm and doesn’t know where to sigh or shrug or laugh and settles for rubbing at the back of his head and not looking Sidney in the face. ‘Yeah -- Caro’s -- a bit like that.’

‘I don’t know why she--’ Sidney gestures with the key, glancing up the bank after the women and girls whose voices are rapidly fading in the afternoon warmth. ‘I can’t just -- I mean, I--’

‘I know, I know,’ Geordie interrupts because he can’t stand to listen to the rest of whatever Sidney is trying to work up to saying. His stomach, badly upset since his attack of nerves after not finding Sidney where he expected him to be, churns acid again and Geordie snatches the key off Sidney’s palm, pocketing it before Sidney can say anything. ‘I’ll get it back to her. Don’t worry yourself about it.’

‘Geordie--’ 

Sidney’s slightly plaintive voice follows Geordie up the bank to where he had draped his coat over a low-bending bough. He pulls it down and drags it on, burying the key in an inside pocket where he’s almost certain to forget about it. Where had he stuck his hat? The girls had stolen it as a prop for some play and he turns on his heels, trying to see where they left it.

‘Geordie--’

Christ, they left the damned thing on a bloody _bush_ and he finds Dora’s woven thread bracelet below it and stuffs that in his pocket after the key. She’ll be heartbroken if she finds she’s lost it before he gets home so he turns around to go back up the slope; perhaps he can catch them up before they make the main road --- but instead he walks directly into Sidney. ‘Jesus!’ 

‘Geordie.’ Sidney grabs his wrists to steady him but otherwise makes no attempt to give him more room.

‘What d’you think you’re doing!’

‘This.’ And one of Sidney’s hands is steadying his chin and Sidney’s mouth is warm over his and Geordie hears himself sigh and feels himself relax before he makes any conscious decision to do so. Sidney draws back and looks at him. ‘Because you wouldn’t bloody well listen to me.’

Geordie clears his throat, resisting the urge to touch his lips. ‘Well, if that’s how you’re going to get me attention, I don’t know as I’ll start now.’

‘I didn’t mean I didn’t -- that I didn’t _want_ to,’ Sidney says, flushing as he speaks.

‘Didn’t -- want to what?’ 

Sidney rolls his eyes and jerks his shoulder at the boat. ‘But -- I can’t just -- disappear for the night. Mrs M’ll have the whole village out looking for me, to say nothing of Leonard panicking. I’m supposed to go over his sermon notes with him this evening.’

‘I _know,’_ Geordie says. ‘It’s all right, honestly, it--’

Sidney kisses him again and Geordie can't resist letting himself soften into it, letting Sidney take some part of his weight. 

‘Another time,’ Sidney murmurs when he pulls back, just far enough that he has room to speak. ‘Soon. I promise.’ 

‘I’ll wait,’ Geordie says and then winces: it might be true but he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. He glances up at Sidney’s face and swallows hard. Sidney’s looking at him as though Geordie had just produced a handful of solid gold from thin air.

Sidney brushes a fingertip over Geordie’s temple, back into the hair above his ear and Geordie braces himself not to shudder. The touch seems to go straight through him and he wants to lean into it, wants to pull Sidney’s hand down to his mouth and map out his fingertips with lips and teeth and tongue. 

‘You would.’ It isn’t quite a statement or a question.

‘No,’ Geordie corrects, reaching up and sliding his fingers between Sidney’s. ‘I _will.’_ And this is too much, too fraught, too significant for either of them to take so soon, so he adds, ‘With your schedule, I’ll bloody well have to.’ 


End file.
